Read Defenders of The Sacred Land: Book One of The Sacred Land Saga Online
Authors: Mark Tyson
Tags: #Fantasy
“No, mother.” Dorenn extended his hand outwardly toward Lady Shey and the elf maiden. “This is Lady Shey from the Vale and her elven servant.” He noticed that the elf maiden winced at the word servant, but he tried to pretend he did not see her. “They would like to have a word with you and secure lodgings for the night.” He turned to Lady Shey. “My lady, this is my mother, Inn Mistress Dellah Adair.”
Dellah’s worried expression became one of excitement. “Well then, I shall have the chambermaids prepare my best rooms for such honored guests.” Dellah bowed gracefully. “The Tiger’s Head Inn is at your every service, my lady.”
Lady Shey returned the bow. “Thank you, Mistress Dellah. I shall call on you if the need arises. As for the moment, I invoke your hospitality as I require that you meet with me after we have settled. I have a matter to discuss with you.” Lady Shey’s eyes darted to Dorenn as she leaned in to whisper to Dellah. “Bring along the townswomen elders as well. This is a matter for womankind first and men folk later.” Lady Shey winked and Dorenn saw his mother wink back just as quickly.
“Tatrice, my dear, may I borrow you for a moment?” Dellah asked. Tatrice nodded, pinched Dorenn’s arm, and quickly moved beside Dellah. Dorenn winced and gave Tatrice a menacing stare as she took her place beside his mother.
“Tatrice dear, go fetch Fettina and tell her to prepare the master suites.”
“As you wish, Mistress Dellah,” Tatrice answered, bowing slightly before moving off to find Fettina.
“You must be exhausted and famished, my lady, I will have the servants prepare the private dining hall immediately.” Dellah pointed to a double doorway that led into a long hallway.
“I would not trouble you, my good inn mistress,” Lady Shey said.
A young girl with brown hair and wide brown eyes appeared, and Dellah took her by her shoulders, moving to stand in behind her.
“Nonsense, I shall have Fettina here show you to your lodgings. Assemble back here in an hour and I will serve you a dinner befitting your station, if it pleases you, my lady.” Dellah bowed again.
Lady Shey returned the bow. “It does, Inn Mistress. You are most gracious.”
“Grand,” Dellah replied, clasping her hands together as she whirled around back toward the kitchen. She whispered to Dorenn as she passed him. “Oh, this is so exciting, a noble woman here at the Tiger’s Head!”
Dorenn followed his mother into the kitchen as Fettina led Lady Shey to her accommodations. Dellah began barking orders to the already frantic staff, and they all began bustling around, grabbing down pots and pans and various cooking ingredients.
Dorenn made his way to the cook his mother had been talking to before. “Elgar, have you seen my father?”
“Not in a long while, Master Dorenn. I believe he has gone to Master Sanmir’s shop; he was muttering something about a nagging headache,” the cook said.
“I’d wager that headache is named Dellah Adair,” Dorenn stated, elbowing the cook and smiling. The old cook just smiled back knowingly, trying not to look in Dellah’s general direction. Dorenn loved his mother very much, but her perfectionism was maddening at times. “All right then, Elgar, tell my father I have gone to find Rennon if he asks for my whereabouts.”
“I will, Master Dorenn,” Elgar said, turning back to his cooking. He stirred his sauce once and then rapidly turned back to Dorenn. “Oh, and Master Dorenn, I almost forgot. Master Vesperin was here searching for you about an hour ago. I heard him tell your father that he would be at the temple should you return.”
“Good, I will try him there. Thank you, Elgar.”
“My pleasure, Master Dorenn,” the cook said, continuing to prepare his sauce.
Dorenn left the kitchen by way of the common room, largely ignoring the patrons in favor of getting out of the inn without spending time speaking to any of them about Lady Shey’s arrival. Only one person tried to flag him down with her handkerchief, but he pretended not to hear or see her as he hurried out the front double door. Once he was out of the inn and into the street, Dorenn made his way to the temple of Loracia, north of the village square. The temple was a large building with huge spiraling turrets and statues of Loracia lining the main entrance. It was the oldest structure in Brookhaven but was still as solid as the day it was erected. Loracia, the Goddess of Life, was the patron goddess to most of Symboria’s clerics, and Vesperin was definitely born to be a cleric. The priests of Loracia found him wondering through the temple gardens as a young boy of two or three. They tried to locate his parents for a full season before finally adopting him. The first season he was at the temple, he was known simply as Boy. Finally, Father Undain made him his apprentice and renamed him Vesperin after the elvish word meaning little miracle. The priests are still convinced that Loracia herself sent him to them. Dorenn pushed the two massive double doors open and entered the main hall. Hundreds of candles burned on both sides of the altar, and two rows of pews lined either side of the temple. The vaulted ceiling extended high above, illuminated only by the round, stained glass window inset above the altar. Dorenn saw Vesperin sitting on a pew near the front of the hall. He sat on one of the back pews and waited for his friend to get free of his duties so he could tell him the events of the day.
It was another half hour before Vesperin was free, but as soon as he could slip away from the temple, he and Dorenn rushed to the gardens before making their way back to the inn. Dorenn excitedly filled Vesperin in on Lady Shey’s arrival, embellishing a few facts for dramatic effect.
“So she is a real noblewoman from the Vale of Morgoran?” Vesperin asked as they crossed through the garden.
“As far as I can tell, she may be from Symbor or Lux Enor, I’m not sure,” Dorenn replied. “Mother is preparing a special meal for her as we speak, so they will be in the private dining hall shortly. Oh, and I almost forgot, she is attended by an elf maiden!”
Vesperin stopped cold. He absently smoothed down his plain brown cleric robe. “A Darovan elf?”
Dorenn shook his head. “Nay, an Arillian.”
Vesperin ran his hand through his long blond hair as if making himself more presentable. “I‘ve never seen one in Brookhaven before.”
“Me neither, at least, I think she is Arillian. I can’t be sure, for I’ve only seen them in books.” Dorenn smiled as Vesperin smoothed down his hair again. “Planning on courting her, are you?”
Vesperin, with embarrassment, realized he was brushing back his hair and abruptly stopped. “No, but it never hurts to make a good first impression.”
“You’re a priest, Ves.”
“No, I’m a cleric. There is a difference, you know.” Vesperin whistled appreciatively. “An Arillian elf in Brookhaven!”
“We can see them through the side door to the private hall. Mother will probably have Tatrice and Fettina serving them, so we can have Tat fill us in on what they were talking about if we can’t hear them.”
“Where is Rennon?” asked Vesperin. “He would most likely want to be around for this.”
“I haven’t seen him since yesterday. Sanmir probably has him practicing potion mixing or whatnot in his shop. You know Rennon, when he works in the shop he is occupied for hours.”
The two boys reached the inn and decided to enter through the kitchen. Dorenn searched for his father again but still did not see him. The two were about to enter the hallway to the private dining room when Lourn Adair burst out of the ale cellar carrying a barrel of rich, dark ale. He noticed Dorenn and smiled. Dorenn’s father had a rotund build, as did many innkeepers that could not keep their hands off the ale and fine cooking of their staff. He had steel blue eyes with an unnerving, penetrating gaze. His white apron was forever stained, and his trousers were loose and faded from use. His brown hair receded back to reveal a high forehead, which he could use to express anger with uncanny clarity.
“Oh, there you are, Dorenn. I’ve been searching for you. Your mother wants you to go to the private dining hall and serve this ale. Lady Shey’s servant and guards do seem to enjoy their drink.” His expression abruptly changed. “Which reminds me, as I fetched this barrel I noticed that my stores were getting much lower than I expected. Did I see Fadral stumbling around here?” Lourn cut his eyes to the hallway as if expecting to see Fadral standing there.
“Aye, he was in the common room the last I saw him. He was trying to stir up a game of nine cards,” Dorenn answered.
Lourn chuckled. “I wonder if he is carrying Darovan ale this trip.”
Dorenn looked at the doorway to the common room as if Fadral would hear. “His wagon looked pretty bare to me. He claimed to have filled it especially for the trip up here…”
Lourn sighed in dismay. “We may have to make a trip to Symbor ourselves then. The only problem is I can’t leave the inn just now with all of the extra business from the soldiers.” Lourn smirked. “But I could send you, Vesperin, and Rennon if you take Trendan along to keep you out of trouble.”
Dorenn brightened. “I know Trendan would go, and Rennon would absolutely go if he can get away from Sanmir and his studies long enough.”
“Well, I believe Trendan is in the common room now, why not go and ask him? If he agrees, you will leave in the morning. I will have Durn prepare the red wagon and the good team.”
Dorenn hurried off then stopped and turned back to Lourn. “What about serving the ale?”
“Your mother doesn’t know I have found you yet. Just hurry and ask Trendan and then meet me at the tap and mallet.”
“Aye, father,” Dorenn said excitedly, cocking his head for Vesperin to follow him.
After the two were down the hall toward the common room, Vesperin spoke. “Why does your father always insist on Trendan coming along whenever he sends us out of Brookhaven?”
“He thinks Trendan is responsible since he has been around so long. Ever since Trendan fought off bandits from one of his supply wagons last summer, he has had my father’s respect. He managed to get the supply wagon here without losing a single drop of ale or pinch of flour.” Dorenn grinned. “He would swallow that respect if he knew Trendan as well as I do. He may be older, but he definitely hasn’t matured all that much.”
“He is the best woodsman and tracker I have ever seen,” Vesperin said. “And he does appear to be responsible.” He paused and smiled devilishly. “Just keep him away from the elvish rose wine and he is fine.
“Well, he is half-elven.”
“Aye, the Sylvan elves do love their rose wine.” Vesperin turned thoughtful. “I wish I could go to Foreshome someday. The Archers of Endil win the archery tournaments every season. I wish we could be there in person. News from the peddlers and secondhand retelling can’t possibly compare to actually being there in the Great Sythian forest and seeing the archers compete. And I wouldn’t mind seeing the Sylvan elf maidens either; I hear no man can resist them.”
Dorenn appeared stunned. “Is that the sort of thing a priest should speak of?”
“I already told you, I am a cleric, not a priest. And clerics of Loracia do marry by the way.”
Dorenn opened the double doors to the common room and immediately spotted Trendan talking to Lenae and Jerral, the common room attendants. Trendan always knew when he had a pair of eyes on him, and he glanced up from his conversation to see Dorenn and Vesperin. Dorenn motioned for him to join them by the doors. Trendan raised his head in acknowledgement of Dorenn’s request, excused himself from the two attendants, and made his way to the double doors where his two friends stood waiting. Trendan stood as tall as Dorenn and had a similar build, but his sandy blond hair and his emerald green eyes were a stark contrast to Dorenn’s brown hair and blue eyes. He had sharper features than Dorenn and a longer nose. His two slightly pointed ears identified him as half-elven.
“There you two are,” Trendan said. “What news do you have of the coach I saw in the stable, and where is Fadral?”
“I thought Fadral was staying the night at the inn. You haven’t seen him?” Dorenn asked. “He was just in here a not an hour ago.”
“No, I haven’t seen him.”
“Tatrice and I rode in with him on his wagon. We led Lady Shey here.”
“Lady who?” Trendan asked.
“Shey,” Dorenn repeated. “She is a noble woman from the Vale. Follow me and I will explain. I have to go to the private dining room and serve them Darovan ale.” The three started down the hall, letting the double doors swing shut. “My father wanted me to ask you if you would guide us to Symbor to pick up a shipment of ale. He won’t let us go without you.”
“Who will be going?” Trendan inquired.
“Me, Vesperin, you, and maybe Rennon if he can get away from his duties with Sanmir.”
Trendan scratched his chin. “Anyone else?”
“No,” Dorenn replied.
“You can count me in then.”
“I thought so,” Vesperin laughed. “If we were taking along Master Lourn or Mistress Dellah, you would not be so quick to accept.”
“Don’t be so sure.” Trendan’s wry smile told Vesperin he was right.
Lourn had already installed the tap on the ale barrel when the three arrived, and he had begun pouring the ale into mugs and setting them on a silver tray. “Well, what do you say Trendan?” Lourn asked.
“I have already agreed to go along, Master Lourn. When do we leave?”
“You leave at first light. Why don’t you two take a summons to Rennon while Dorenn serves ale to our guests?” Lourn handed them a small parchment from under his vest. “Oh, and Trendan, my lad?”
“Yes, Master Lourn?”
“I will be counting on you to use that keen tracking skill of yours to avoid any potential bandits.”
Trendan nodded, slapped Vesperin’s chest with the back of his hand, and the two were off to Sanmir’s apothecary shop. Lourn laughed as they hurried off.
As Dorenn prepared to lift the silver tray, Lady Shey unexpectedly appeared behind him.
Lourn almost tripped over her.
“I am very sorry. I did not intend to startle you and please forgive my eavesdropping, but did I hear you say you were sending these boys to Symbor?”
“Aye, my lady, you heard correctly,” Lourn stated.
“I would very much like to accompany them if I may.”